


Fragrant are the Colours of Flowers, of Love

by violetstorm



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, First Meetings, Fluff, Luna makes a brief appearance, M/M, Mer!Ignis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:55:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetstorm/pseuds/violetstorm
Summary: Ignis is a mer from the deepwaters of Tenebrae, ordered by Luna Lunafreya to collect flowers from the surface. He is escorted by another mer: Gladiolus Amicitia, and finds himself falling in love.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Fragrant are the Colours of Flowers, of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This was my contribution to the [Parallel Love: Gladnis](https://twitter.com/ParallelLoveGI) zine! It was so amazing to work with the other contributions and to see the zine evolve into the beauty it is now. 
> 
> This fic was a collab with [@KuShu_Art](https://twitter.com/KuShu_Art), who drew some [lovely art](https://twitter.com/KuShu_Art/status/1274399254304432129) for it. ♡♡

In hindsight, Ignis had Lady Lunafreya to thank for introducing the idea of travelling to the surface. It started when she summoned him to her chambers and, after exchanging pleasant greetings, asked: “Tell me. Have you heard of  _ mullein?” _

“I’m afraid not.”

“It’s a flower that grows on the surface. It’s come to my knowledge that it has medicinal properties that can be drawn out and, with magic, turned into potions.” Lady Lunafreya tilted her head to the side in thought, her tailfins gently swaying in the ocean’s currents. 

“Yes?”

“I would like you to go to the surface to obtain those flowers and bring them back to me. I want to experiment with their properties.”

_ That  _ was unexpected to hear. Lady Lunafreya’s tone was not joking, no. She was completely serious. While creating potions was no simple task, Ignis hardly understood why he would have to make a journey to the surface for some  _ flowers  _ in hopes that it would create more potent potions. Yet, who was he to question Lunafreya?

She was the leader of their tribe, in the deep waters of Tenebrae, and trusted him enough to make the journey. After all, Ignis had swam to the surface waters of Lucis previously, though that was during a different time, before Niflheim separated the two, declaring war on Lucis and pushing the tribe of Tenebrae deeper underwater.

“I’m afraid I cannot guarantee you an escort through Niflheim,” Lunafreya apologized. “Though I can offer you an escort through Lucis.”

“An escort?” Tenebrae was close with Lucis—Tenebrae provided Lucis with their spellflasks, crafted by magic known only to Ignis’ tribe—however Ignis was not a trusting man.

“His name is Gladiolus. Noctis trusts him,” she simply replied by way of explanation. “I think that you will find him quite interesting.”

_ Interesting,  _ yes. That was one way of putting it. Ignis was expecting a cold, formal welcome and an escort who would guide him through Lucian waters to the flowers and bring him back to the border with no fanfare, no nonsense.

What Ignis finds is somebody much more different.

* * *

He knows he’s reached Lucian waters when he’s hit by a sudden sensation of magic that envelops his body. The magic of the royal line permeates Lucis’ waters, to keep their mer safe, yet for Ignis, it feels suffocating, intrusive. He’s gone to the area where his escort had agreed to meet—there are no other mer around and Ignis remains on high alert.

Two minutes pass before he senses the presence of a large mer swimming towards him with powerful strokes. Ignis tenses, ready for a fight, but the mer stops just ahead of him. 

“Hey,” the mer greets, “you’re the one from Tenebrae, right? Ignis?”

“And who might you be?”

“Name’s Gladiolus.” He moves a bit closer. “I’m your escort. Lady Lunafreya asked Noct to send me, yeah? You need to collect some flowers from the surface.”

“That would be correct. Where would they be?”

“It’s still a bit of a swim to the surface. I’ll lead the way.” He waits for Ignis’ nod of confirmation and spins on the spot, swimming upwards and farther into Lucian waters. Ignis follows, close on his tail. The waters are calm, and Ignis can almost forget that he’s following a man he’s never met before in foreign territory. Gladiolus slows down, just enough so that Ignis can swim up to his side. “So, what did you need some flowers for? I don’t see Lucian mer going crazy over them, let alone mer from Tenebrae.”

“Magic,” Ignis explains. “Where do you think your spellflasks come from? In Tenebrae, we need to draw our magic from a physical source in order to create enchantments and spells—with Lady Lunafreya and Lord Ravus being an exception. Lady Lunafreya wishes to see if she can enhance her own Oracle magic with the aid of those flowers.”

“Sounds complicated. Not even gonna pretend I understood half of that. Guess that’s why I stick to these guys, huh?” Gladiolus flexes his arms for emphasis. His build and musculature are certainly…  _ impressive,  _ for lack of a better term, and he manages to carry himself with grace despite his bulky appearance. “You any good with magic yourself?”

“You could say that—”

“Wait, hold up,” Gladiolus says sharply. He thrusts an arm out that catches Ignis across the chest, halting him in his tracks. Alarm bells ring inside his head, though he can’t sense anything out of the ordinary. He moves closer to Gladiolus, who moves in front of him, his tail neatly wrapping around Ignis’ own.

“Gladiolus—”

“ _ Shh.  _ Someone’s near.”

Ignis falls silent; his heart pounds. Gladiolus has gone rigid as he presumably scans the waters. Then, Gladiolus turns his head to the side and barks out, “Back off, Luche. He’s travelling with me. We’ve been granted permission by Noct. If you got any complaints, take ‘em to him.”

Gladiolus is met with no response and he growls. There, in the distance he was speaking, Ignis detects a faint movement. It moves farther and farther away until Ignis can no longer sense it—Gladiolus, however, does not let go nor relax his body.

“Who—or what—was what?” Ignis asks, once he’s sure the mer is gone.

“Lucian soldier. A lot of ‘em are hostile to anybody outside Lucis, thanks to the Niffs, and typically, even Lucian mer aren’t allowed to go near the surface. He was probably eager to get his hands on you.” Gladiolus spins on the spot until he’s facing Ignis, untangling his tail. “Sorry—you’re not hurt, are you? I didn’t mean to stop you like that.”

The concern that laces his tone—so different from the hostile, dangerous one he adopted earlier—freezes Ignis in place. Gladiolus’ worry and his apology are too sincere to be faked; his gentle touch on Ignis’ arm is reassuring. 

(It’s sweet.)

“Ignis?”

“Apologies.” Ignis shakes his head. Gladiolus is an escort, nothing more. It’s simply his duty to be concerned. “I’m quite alright.”

Gladiolus exhales. “Good to hear. Sorry, wasn’t expecting trouble like that. Hope it’s the only one we come across.”

“How much farther are the flowers?”

“We’re almost there.”

They begin their swim once more. This time, Gladiolus strays closer to Ignis, swimming close enough that their fins occasionally brush against each other. After spending so much time alone and on edge throughout Tenebrae and Niflheim, Ignis finds himself appreciating the security and comfort that Gladiolus so readily provides. 

He knows they’re by the surface before Gladiolus warns him of it. The water’s pressure is all but gone and Ignis hears the dulled crash of waves above.

“Here we are,” Gladiolus announces. “Ever been above the surface before?”

“No, I have not.”

“So I guess I’m the lucky guy who gets to introduce you to it. Oh, it’s gonna be great. You ready?”

Truthfully, Ignis is not. He has heard the tales, of course, from humans capturing mer to put them on display to foul, four-legged beasts with teeth as sharp as a shark’s. But Ignis has gone too far to go back now, he’s never been one to let his fears stop him and, well, the thought of the surface does not seem as frightening with Gladiolus by his side.

“Yes,” Ignis says. “After you?”

Gladiolus propels himself upwards with a loud splash in lieu of an answer. Most of his torso is above water; his tail swishes from side to side, keeping him upright. Ignis inhales, steels himself, and follows suit.

When he breaks the surface of the water, it’s the wind he notices first, brushing against his body. The ripple of waves pushes against his body and he hears them crash against the shoreline. What is perhaps the most startling is the warmth of the sun on his skin—it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before.

Ignis doesn’t realize he’s swaying until Gladiolus wraps an arm around his shoulders, holding him steady.

(The sun, though hot, feels nothing like the warmth from Gladiolus’ touch. Unknowingly, Ignis leans into his body).

“You alright?” Gladiolus' voice shakes Ignis from his daze. “Need to go back under?”

Ignis faces Gladiolus, almost certain that his cheeks are set alight. “No, no. I’m quite alright. Apologies. I was simply… getting used to these new sensations.” Such as Gladiolus’ touch, for one, though he doesn’t need to know that.

“Gotcha. Well, if it ever gets too much for you, let me know and we’ll take a breather underwater.”

“Noted.” Ignis nods. “Now, where would the flowers be? I’m afraid I cannot sense their presence as I can with objects underwater.”

“They ain’t too far.” Gladiolus pauses, for a brief moment. “Is it alright if I hold your hand? Might be easier to guide you that way.”

_ Yes. Yes. A hundred times yes,  _ Ignis wants to say. Gladiolus is the perfect gentleman, asking permission for such a chaste act, despite Ignis wanting something more.

When Gladiolus takes his hand, he grips it tightly, as if worried Ignis would be swept away by the currents—as if he wants to keep Ignis close. He leads Ignis past rocks, until they reach what Ignis presumes is the shoreline. The water is shallower here, and he needs to take care not to swing his tail into stones.

“Here they are,” Gladiolus says. He brings Ignis’ hand to a raised patch of land just in front of them. “There’s a cliff here and the flowers are growing at the base of it. Pretty surprising; normally, flowers don’t grow this close to water.”

Wordlessly, Ignis runs his fingers along the flowers, taking note of just how  _ soft  _ they are, how delicate the petals feel, how smooth its leaves are. The air is salty, yet tinged with the sweetest scent.

“What do you think?” Gladiolus asks, his smile evident in his tone.

“I’m  _ fascinated. _ Never would I have imagined that something from the surface could have such beauty and potential for magic. It’s almost a shame that I’ll need to pluck them.”

“True, but the fun thing about flowers is…” Gladiolus takes a single flower and offers it to Ignis. “They’re resilient and they grow back. No harm done.”

Ignis drops the flower into a pouch on his hip, enchanted with magic to keep them safe from being crushed by the deeper water’s pressure. “I see,” he says, and takes a flower of his own. “For a mer, you’re certainly knowledgeable about flowers.”

“One of my ancestors was a human. They fell in love with an Amicitia and named their children after flowers,” Gladiolus explains. “We stopped doing that for some time, but my mom decided to bring that tradition back and named my sister and I after flowers.”

“A human, falling in love with a mer?”

“Strange, I know.”

“Perhaps, but love  _ can _ strike between the unlikeliest of people,” Ignis murmurs. Gladiolus simply splutters in response—had Ignis gone too far? Too personal? “Ah, would you help me pick these flowers?” he says in an attempt to change the subject.

Gladiolus’ response is delayed, replying with a gruff, “Yeah, ‘course.” He positions himself by Ignis and together, they pick flowers in amiable silence. Instead of the awkwardness Ignis expects, he finds the silence comforting, broken only by the sound of the wind and waves.

As talkative as Gladiolus is, he doesn’t attempt to fill the silence with meaningless banter, something a few mer from Tenebrae could stand to learn. The lack of a conversation should also allow Ignis to listen for any potential danger, yet he finds himself oddly relaxed and completely unaware of most of his surroundings, all his attention focused onto Gladiolus.

(Their fingers brush once, twice, as they’re picking flowers. When it happens a third time, Ignis chalks it up to more than just a mere coincidence).

“Oh, check it out,” Gladiolus suddenly says. He reaches over and picks something off the sand. “Hold out your hand.”

Though confused, Ignis obeys. Gladiolus drops something hard and small into his palm. He rolls it between his fingers, feeling its ridges and rough edges.

“A shell?” Ignis says.

“Yup. Do you have them in Tenebrae?”

“Hardly. I’ve heard they’re more common in the upper waters.”

“It’s mostly humans that collect them, but it’s pretty common for nobles in Lucis to wear them as jewelry. Here, I’ll show you.” Gladiolus gently taps the back of Ignis’ hand. “Give me your hand again?”

Gladiolus hardly needs to ask—Ignis is (desperately, ashamedly) all-too willing to offer Gladiolus whatever he can. It’s the most he can do for Gladiolus’ service. He places his hand in Gladiolus’, and he brings Ignis’ hand to his collarbone, to a necklace he wears. It’s made of seashells, carefully woven together and Gladiolus is silent, patient as he watches Ignis trail his fingers along the necklace.

His hand falls just over Gladiolus’ heart and Ignis takes pause, feeling his heartbeat thrum. He’s caressing Gladiolus, almost like one might do a lover and Ignis snatches his hand back, clutching it to his chest as if he’s been stung.

“It feels… beautiful,” Ignis says lamely, praying that Gladiolus has not noticed his turmoil. He goes back to busying himself with the flowers. They’re aren’t many left but hopefully, his blush would have faded by the time he’s picked them all.

Gladiolus clears his throat. “Thanks.” He does the same, helping Ignis gather the last of the flowers. He’s more adept than Ignis, being able to see the flowers instead of having to feel around for them—it can’t be an accident, the way he continues to touch Ignis’ hand or arm at every given opportunity.

“That’s the last of ‘em,” Gladiolus eventually says. “You think you’ve got enough?”

Ignis checks his pouch. There’s a fine layer of them, enough to last Lady Lunafreya a month at most. “Yes,” he replies. “I believe this will do. Thank you for your assistance.”

“It’s no problem. I love flowers and anything to do with ‘em. I should be thanking  _ you  _ for giving me an excuse to head to the surface again.”

“I must admit, I’m slightly envious of how close you are to where flowers grow.”

Never before would Ignis have imagined himself to become envious of living in the upper waters, yet here he is.

(He never expected to become so enamoured with the mer from the upper waters, as well, yet here he is).

Gladiolus hums in thought for a moment, then reaches for the shoreline again. “There we go. This is for you. He places a flower in Ignis’ palm. It’s much larger than the mullein. Softer, too, with a powerful scent. “It’s called a lilac. Think of it as a gift. You don’t have flowers that far underwater, but you can take this with you. It ain’t the same, but…”

“Thank you, Gladiolus,” Ignis says with a smile. “I appreciate the thought and I’ll cherish this flower. It’s exquisite.”  _ As is the mer offering the gift. _

“Yeah.” Gladiolus rubs the back of his neck. “So, uh, that’s all you needed, right?”

“Not unless you’ve more lilacs to offer me.”

“Heh, sorry, I’m all out. Maybe I’ll get you different flowers next time. Like roses,” Gladiolus says. The phrase  _ next time  _ freezes in Ignis’ mind—was that a mere slip of the tongue, or Gladiolus’ way of telling Ignis he, too, wanted more? “Ignis?”

Gladiolus is staring at him expectantly. Ignis shakes his head clear. “Excuse me. I was lost in thought for a moment there. What were you saying?”

“I was just askin’ if you wanted to head below the surface. Don’t get me wrong, I love it up here, but you can never be too careful, yeah?”

“Yes,” Ignis says. He turns his face up to the sky, savouring the feeling of the sun against his skin, then plunges below the surface. The coolness of the water envelops him in a familiar embrace. Being above the surface was exhilarating, though Ignis sorely missed being able to sense the world around him as he’s able to do underwater.

Gladiolus hovers just out of his reach, an arm extended, as if he wished to keep Ignis steady. “You alright?”

“I am, thank you.”

“Good. That’s… good. So I guess it’s time for you to return to Tenebrae, huh?”

“Yes. Regrettably.” The word slips out of Ignis’ mouth before he realizes it, but he cannot find himself to be embarrassed. Gladiolus surely must have noticed bits and pieces of Ignis’ forwardness and he has done nothing to dissuade his efforts. Perhaps, just perhaps, Gladiolus wants Ignis’ company as much as he wants Gladiolus’. “I have enjoyed my time here on the surface.”  _ With you.  _ “But, I have promised Lady Lunafreya I would be back by what Lucians call nightfall.”

“You gotta swim past Niff territory to get to Tenebrae. You sure you can handle the journey?”

“I managed quite well coming to Lucis on my own. Your worries are appreciated, and unnecessary.”

Gladiolus’ tail flicks in the water; he radiates agitation. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that you can’t take care of yourself.”

“What were you meaning to say, then?” Ignis swims closer, just enough so that he and Gladio are nearly chest-to-chest. Gladiolus looks away.

“I know the agreement was that I’d keep an eye on you through Lucian waters,” Gladiolus begins slowly. “But I’d be willing to escort you all the way to Tenebrae, if you’d let me.”

It takes a second for Ignis to understand what Gladiolus is saying. “And what about you? You’ll escort me to Tenebrae and make the journey back to Lucis alone?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve been training my whole life, a couple of Niffs don’t scare me. I just don’t want to see you hurt,” Gladiolus admits. He closes the distance between them, his tailfins tangling in Ignis’, and takes hold of Ignis’ hand—perhaps that’s all Ignis needed to be convinced.

“If you’re sure,” Ignis says. Lady Lunafreya has always chided him on his stubbornness before, and here Gladiolus is, waltzing past the walls Ignis has built around himself like he’s always lived there.

“I am. You won’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine and I swear on my duty to keep you safe. I promise.”

Gently, ever so gently, Gladiolus brings Ignis’ hands to his lips, sealing his promise with a kiss to the back of his hand. Though heat spreads through his body at Gladiolus’ touch, Ignis shivers and, as they make their way down into deeper, heavier waters, he finds his chest feeling as light as ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Aratanaruu)! And keep a lookout for extra sales on the zine's twitter page! ;>


End file.
